Bittner, Rosanne (69 page)

"I know what you're thinking," the man spoke up. "We have a lot to talk about, Luke. I'll open by saying I have always considered you my brother in every way. Whether or not we had the same father didn't matter."

At first Luke could not find his voice. He grasped John's hand and shook it vigorously. "Hello, John," he finally managed to say.

They both grinned, and in the next moment they were embracing. Lettie glanced at the painting of their mother, thinking how happy the woman would be to see this reunion. She could almost feel Beverly Fontaine's presence in the room.

CHAPTER 34

"Father died last year, Luke."

Luke stepped back, anger in his misty eyes. 'Died! Why didn't you write and tell me?"

John asked Luke and Lettie to sit down. "Partly because at first I didn't know
how
to tell you. I felt so bad about how he treated you to begin with, and my wife had died just weeks before Father. I was lost in my own mourning and, I don't know, so much time slipped by that I felt like an ass for not having let you know right away." He sat down across from them, and the maid brought in a silver tray with drinks and a pitcher that was sweating from its cold contents. She poured some iced tea into a tall glass for Lettie.

"There's lots of ice in the pot, so it should stay cold for quite a while," she told her. She turned to John. "I brought your best bourbon, sir."

"Thank you, Margaret," John answered. "Please close the parlor doors when you leave."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Fontaine."

John poured himself and Luke each a shot of whiskey. He handed over the glass. "To Jacques Fontaine," he said, rather sarcastically.

"Only if we drink a second shot to our mother," Luke answered.

John nodded. They downed their drinks and poured another, saluting Beverly Fontaine. Lettie quietly watched.

"I'm sorry about your wife, John," Luke said. "I can't even imagine life without Lettie. Did you have any children?"

John leaned back in his chair, his eyes showing sadness and disappointment. "No. You're the only brother with sons to carry on the Fontaine name. A guilty look came over his face. "I, uh, I married Lynnanne, Luke. Her first husband was killed in the war, so she moved back here from New York and... well, I always cared for her. I never told you about my feelings back when you were courting her. I knew how you felt about her. When you started writing me..."

The man leaned forward, running his hands through his hair. "I treasured those letters, Luke. I wanted to write back, but I was afraid to tell you I'd married Lynnanne. I knew Dad was the one who fixed it so she got sent away. I thought maybe you'd think I had something to do with it, too." He met Luke's eyes, saw the hurt and disappointment there. "I never told Lynnanne about the letters. Dad never did either. But I envied you, Luke, all the excitement and adventure, building on a wonderful dream and making it on your own like that, all the children you've had. Lynnanne was unable to bear children." John reached over and poured himself another drink, then held out the bottle to Luke.

Luke took the bottle, tipping more of the whiskey into his own shot glass. "You could have told me, John. I was happily married. It wouldn't have mattered."

"I guess part of me was jealous of your success and accomplishments, worried Lynnanne would regret not having married you if she knew. I know part of her heart still belonged to you. I was afraid I'd seem less... I don't know... less of a man, maybe, if she knew about all the things you were doing up in Montana." He shook his head and slugged down the drink. "You were always braver, more adventurous, certainly the better looking brother. Whoever fathered you must have been one good-looking—" He hesitated, seeing the sudden pain in Luke's eyes. "I'm sorry, Luke. I didn't mean that the way it came out."

Luke looked away, and Lettie knew he was struggling with great emotion. His brother had married the woman he'd lost because of his own illegitimacy. He would probably never know who his real father was, and all these years his brother and the only father he had ever known were aware of where he was but had never written.

"I'm so damn sorry, Luke, about everything. After Lynnanne died, then Dad, I was ashamed to write you. After all the lost years, it seemed pointless." He sighed with regret. "You have what,
four
living children?"

Luke just put his head in his hands, saying nothing.

"Five," Lettie answered for him. "If you've read all our letters, you know that our first son, my son from a first marriage, was stolen away by Indians. He finally came back to us about a year ago."

"Really! That's wonderful. What's he like?"

"He is very Indian in spirit," Lettie answered. "He also has an Indian wife and two small children."

John shook his head. "I'll be damned." He smiled sadly, moving his gaze to Luke. "Luke, I hope you'll try to understand my actions. Maybe someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I'm awfully sorry about the son who died, but you've done well, little brother. Leaving here was probably the best thing you could have done. You made a name for yourself, showed Dad you're someone of worth, a son he could be proud of. Fact is, he
was
secretly proud of you. I could see it in his eyes every time he got another letter. He was just too damn stubborn to admit it or answer you... and too ashamed of sending you away."

Luke wiped at his eyes and rose, walking to a window. "How do you know that?"

John leaned back in his chair, studying his shot glass. "Well, I sold our house and moved back in here when Dad got sick. Just a few days before he died, he asked me if I thought God would forgive him for turning his back on you. He said that about the time you were conceived, he suspected our mother of having an affair with a fellow businessman who later left town. He never would tell me who it was. He was hurt so deeply, he just couldn't bring himself to believe you were his. I have always had my doubts, but I guess we'll never know. I'm sorry, Luke. All I know is it never made any difference in how I felt about you as a brother. We have a lot of good boyhood memories, had some good times before that awful day Dad blew up and told you you were a bastard. For all we know, he could have been dead wrong. I think
he
realized that, too, in the end. Just before he died, he wept, wondered if God would forgive him for turning you out with no proof you were fathered by someone else. I think he realized you should never have been blamed either way. What he did was cruel, and you probably couldn't have forgiven him, even if he'd asked."

Luke glanced at Lettie, and she saw the terrible sorrow in his eyes.

"All those wasted years," he said softly. He sat back down and leaned back with a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. "The hell of it is I probably
would
have forgiven him. All I needed was one letter, one sign of affection and pride." He looked at John with tears in his eyes. "Did he ever acknowledge how he felt about what I've accomplished in Montana?"

"Not in words, but as I said, I could see the pride in his eyes. In the end he told me that if I ever wrote to you or saw you, I should tell you that he was sorry, that part of him always loved you. Deep inside he knew he'd been wrong, that you could very well have been his own son. He was just so hurt, he could never quite forgive our mother."

"I'll never believe our mother was anything but perfect," Luke answered defensively. "If she did have an affair, he drove her to it. You know what he could be like sometimes."

"I know. All I can tell you now is that he kept those letters, Luke, every one of them. They were very special to him. I still have them if you'd like them back. They might be useful, kind of a diary for you, a review of all you've done in Montana."

Lettie reached over and touched Luke's hand. "I'd like to have them, Luke."

He smiled bitterly. "What difference does it make anymore? Go ahead and keep them if you want."

John got up from his chair, looking down at both of them. "So, why don't we talk about the present, the future?" he said, trying to bring some joy back into the reunion. "The past is just that—past, gone, irretrievable." He met Luke's eyes. "You're a representative for the territorial legislature, I hear. It was in the newspaper."

"Here? In St. Louis?" Lettie asked.

"Sure was. Luke Fontaine, son of prominent businessman, Jacques Fontaine, and now one of the biggest landowners in Montana, was voted into Montana's territorial legislature, et cetera, et cetera."

Lettie smiled. "He's going to run for governor when Montana becomes a state," she told John.

John smiled. "Well, with someone like you supporting him, how can he go wrong? He said some pretty wonderful things about you in his letters, and I have to say, Lettie, that you're even more beautiful and gracious than I had you pictured."

Lettie liked John, realized he was very much like Luke. She had been prepared to hate this brother for also turning his back on Luke, but she understood his reasoning, knew it was mostly their father's fault they had lost so many years. "Thank you."

John sobered, sitting down again and facing Luke. "Luke, you have every right to hate both Dad and me; but I'm telling you now that I personally believe you have a right to your share of the business, if you want it."

Luke's eyes showed grateful surprise, mingled with a hurt that simply was not going to go away overnight. He shook his head, then got up and turned away, breathing deeply to control his emotions.

"Dad gave up the supply store and concentrated on the warehousing and shipping," John continued. "I have to be honest with you, Luke. Fontaine Warehousing and Shipping clears about a million a year. We ship merchandise all the way up to Duluth, Minnesota and as far south as the Gulf, even out into the Atlantic to eastern seaports. Right now we're setting up to ship merchandise all the way to Europe."

Luke struggled to find his voice, overwhelmed at the generous gesture. "I appreciate the offer, John," he said, finally able to talk. "Some men would be angry to have to share their fortune with someone else after having it to themselves for years. Just the offer tells me you never held anything against me." He turned to face his brother. "You're the one who has worked with the business all these years. I don't want or need any part of it. We're doing fine up at the Double L. We even have a couple of copper mines, own a hotel, a granary, stock in the Northern Pacific. Just this past year I bought some land around Butte and they've discovered more copper there. It's a real bonanza—not gold, but copper pays damn good right now. I didn't come back here to try to get a share of the business. I just wanted some answers. Now I've got them." He looked at Lettie. "My wife is the one who talked me into doing this. As usual, she was right in telling me to come." He turned his gaze back to John. "No matter what the past, we're still brothers, and we shouldn't go the rest of our lives never seeing each other. I'm not sure I can ever get over the hurt, but it helps to know my father—" He hesitated. Should he even call Jacques Fontaine father? "That Jacques at least regretted what he did."

Lettie smiled softly, looking at John. "It was rather a last-minute decision to come here. We were in Chicago for our youngest daughter's wedding." She glanced at Luke, aching for him for all his years of hurt. "Luke is anxious to get back to the Double L. He's happiest when he's on the ranch." She looked back at John. "I do wish you would come and visit us there, meet Tyler and Katie and Nathan, see the ranch."

John rose, walking closer to Luke. "I'd like that. With Dad gone, my wife dead, it gets a little lonely around here."

Their gaze held, and Luke nodded. "Then find people to run things for a while and come to Montana. You might like it so much you won't want to leave. It's beautiful country, John."

John smiled sadly. "So I've heard." He sighed. "I told Dad I could send for you so he could see you before he died, but he didn't want that. He was afraid you would think he was only doing it because he wanted quick forgiveness. He figured you probably couldn't forgive him, anyway, and I don't think he wanted to see what he was afraid he would see in your eyes."

Luke studied the man, wondering where all the years had gone. "I'd like to see his grave."

John nodded. "I'll take you there this afternoon. I hope you can both stay at least a couple of days. St. Louis has grown a lot. I'd like to show Lettie around, let her get a last taste of city life before you take her back to that wild, remote place you call Montana and bury her beauty on the Double L."

Luke smiled, walking over to where Lettie sat, putting his hands on her shoulders. "This woman gets around more than you think she does. Most people in the territory of Montana know who she is, and that's a lot of territory, just about the biggest out West except for Texas and maybe California."

John studied his brother's rugged appearance, his face and hands weathered from years of working outside under Montana skies. He wore a neat suit jacket, but he wore denim pants and leather boots. "Destiny sent you there, Luke, not Dad or anything that happened here. If you hadn't left when you did, you wouldn't have met the perfect woman to help you find your dream. Montana was calling you. I don't think you would have been happy staying here no matter what happened with Dad. Running Fontaine Warehousing would have been too boring for you." He put out his hand. "I would say welcome home, Luke, but you aren't home at all, are you?"

Luke thought about the Double L and how he missed it. He shook his brother's hand again. "You're right. This hasn't been home for me for a long time now." He squeezed John's hand, and their eyes held in mutual affection.

"Do you want our mother's picture?" John asked. "I have another one, a smaller one. I found them up in the attic after Dad died. I have a picture of Dad, too, if you want it."

Luke quelled the temptation to hate his father. The man was dead now. "It would be wonderful to have pictures to take home to show my children. I've told them about Dad, and of course they have asked over the years why he would never come to Montana. I always told them you and Dad were too busy with your business here. They never seemed to question that answer too much. I never had the courage to tell them the truth. Now I don't see any reason to, especially if you come and see us."